


Insomnolence

by glassthroat



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types, Thor - Fandom, Thorki - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Blood, But don't worry., Dark Thor, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Frigga (Marvel) Lives, Frigga does her best, Gen, Healthy Polyamory, Healthy Relationships, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Intersex Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Odin's A+ Parenting, Odin's a dick, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Possessive Thor, Post-Thor: The Dark World, She died? I don't know what you mean., Slow Burn, So many tags, The focus in this fic is Thor/Loki., The poly side of things will be showing., Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Warning: Loki, like browned toast dark, mentions of past rape/non-con, only somewhat dark though, or maybe burnt pizza crust, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassthroat/pseuds/glassthroat
Summary: Loki is no longer a peaceful sleeper as Thor finds out. Thor is determined to understand the cause of it.orIn which Thor discovers Loki's dealing with a lot of hidden trauma and wants to fix it. He, of course, breaks a few things along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a drabble and now I have roughly 20 chapters planned for this fic already. Be prepared for a wild ride.

Once, they had always been together. When Odin had returned from a long war with a babe in his arms, perhaps the only innocent thing that had been found on that battlefield, Thor had immediately decided his new brother belonged to him. He would spend hours with Loki, as they had named him, talking to the young child and toting him around everywhere. Even at that young age, Thor was strong and it never bothered him to carry his brother almost as much as Frigga did, taking Loki to all the secret places only a young boy can claim as his own; hidden galleries and places where they could make blanket forts and play for hours until Frigga would find them, Thor curled around Loki, fast asleep while his new brother would be making noises and gumming at his brother’s fingers. And like that, she would take them to a bed where they could sleep before they were up again, roaming the halls of Asgard, earning smiles from people as they watched the two princes play together.

 

The two grew together, brothers steadfast in name and heart alike; wherever Thor was, one could usually find Loki with his small hand clasped in his brother’s. And Loki spent hours snuggling into Thor’s bed, the two of them inseparable from one another; they were bonded quite well when they were but children. They went through thick and thin together. Thor knew Loki’s sleeping habits, for even when Frigga and Odin had insisted they have separate rooms due to their growing age, Thor and Loki could still be found tangled together the next morning. Odin had groused and threatened to rend them apart, but Frigga had always soothed her sons with ease when they’d started to look too panicked for their own good. They had grown together, had learned together. They were brothers to the truest extent of the word. Yet they had also kissed in those dark hours, had touched in the darkness of night, found themselves doing things that they knew that their parents would never have approved of had they known about it.

 

But, slowly, it eventually faded away once Thor had begun to travel to the battlefields, leaving Loki to remain at their home with Frigga, learning the ways of courts and politics. Yet, even as the brothers began to grow distant, there would still be nights when they would come to one room or the other and slip into that bed. Always there was a welcoming arm, a kiss on a forehead, the two twisting to press closer together. And they curled together, warm and once more brothers without any troubles in the world - at least until everything began to change once more and yet again they'd fall apart as Loki was forced to the sidelines in order to merely watch what Thor did with himself as he grew older and wilder as the battlefield song began to sing in his blood. This new deliberate absence from his brother stung and the spare of the heirs had been left finding little succor even in the presence of their mother.

 

The final threads began to fray, however, as Loki found himself growing resentful of his brother's presence, of his greatness. No longer did Thor tend to seek out his brother's bed for those nights of simple comfort; no, he knew full and well that his brother was infamous for fertility rites and would spend hours gallivanting amongst the taverns with women and men in his brawny arms. Perhaps it was jealousy that curled like a snake in the ribcage of the one they had come to call Silvertongue over the fact that Thor no longer seemed to need him which helped lead to those grandiose plans that would lead to Loki’s downfall. Perhaps it was the fact that he had not been able to lift Mjolnir. Perhaps perhaps perhaps - the reasons could have been numerous and yet none of them seemed to fit and apply to the situation in the way they might have at any other point in time. It had been enough to drive Thor wild with wonderment on the nights where he had been in a tavern, alone and without company.

 

Thor had wondered where it had gone wrong, had wondered where his brother had vanished to in order to leave such a spiteful specter in his place. He had noticed things were not wholesome with Loki for even when they grew apart from one another, Thor still had known his little brother almost better than he knew himself. He had seen the shadows under his brother's eyes before he fell, had seen the faintly pained look evident in the depths of green whenever Loki had looked upon him. He had noticed the pallor when they had met in New York, had seen a clammy sheen to his sibling's body that had not been explained away by something simple like an illness. No matter what he had done, Thor still sought to reach out to his brother and see him come home. He had pleaded with Loki. Begged. He had all but prostrated himself on the ground and had reached out to touch him. But Loki would not listen. 

 

Victory had been Thor's, of course, but at what price? The price of seeing his brother in a cage? The price of seeing Loki in chains? No, it was a hollow victory, an empty one that tasted like ashes in Thor’s mouth as he’d stood in that park and had returned to Asgard with Loki in tow. Turning him over to the Einharjar had hurt, but all of it didn’t seem to matter. Not when he had been forced to fight his brother. Not when he had been made to see his brother fall from grace. It was almost painful to see this side of his brother.

 

But to think that his brother was lost was the worst part of it all.

 

And what a heavy burden it was for Thor to wear at night.


	2. my songs know what you did in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor pays a late night visit to the dungeons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's my birthday, I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter! Next one will be out in probably a week.

The under halls were dark with the onset of night, torches lighting the way for the thunderer’s path as he strode along them, wrapped in a dark cloak. The few of the Einherjar that he passed nodded to the prince whom nodded back, but none stopped Thor on his way down towards the cells where the prisoners of Asgard were kept. It was not his first visit down here, though Thor always told himself it would be the last one.. Only to wind up returning days later. There was only one thing - one  _ person  _ \- down here that drew Thor time and time again to this place, unerringly as ever. It was a person that he should not be indulging himself upon looking on, he knew, but Thor was, as always, unable to respond quite to common sense when his mood was up to see his brother. To see Loki as he ever did, studying his sibling in his sleep for a moment just to assure himself that Loki still dwelt there. That he had not lost his brother once more.

 

Brother.

 

What a bitter taste that word had in his mouth now.

 

Once he had called Loki brother without thinking about it, having lived his life with the Jotun at his side. How galling that had been when he’d learned of it and he could admit, to his own private shame, that he had not been kind to Loki when he’d learned it. Not to his thoughts nor his memories and he could recall too the anger he’d felt at both his father and mother for never telling Loki the truth of his heritage. Perhaps if they’d done that, then Loki would never have set his mad plan to make a bid for the throne into motion. Perhaps Loki’s words had been true:  _ a throne would suit me ill.  _ He clung to those words, even now, wondering if they had been truth or mere fiction as his brother often played at for so long. Always, he told himself there was a kernel of truthfulness to how Loki had voiced the words, the declaration in them. Yet, Loki had always lied and manipulated the situations that they’d been thrown into to his own advantage and that was also part of Loki. How much truth could be trusted in Loki’s words? Not much, Thor knew. But then again, he’d spent nights circling the words over and over in his head, only to find no answers or respite from his thoughts. 

 

But still, his feet carried him to Loki’s cell without erring and once more, he came to a halt as he heard a choked cry from within it. A cry that made him ache and yearn to take the slim form into his arms and shush his sleep as best he could. In all his life, Thor had never thought to hear such pitiable sounds from his proud, sometimes prissy brother. It was not the first time that those cries in the depths of Loki’s sleep had greeted him when he’d come down to the dimly lit chain of rooms, even these having lights that would dull to a barely luminous intensity at dusk, but tonight he was determined that they would be the last. Once upon a time, Thor had been able to soothe Loki’s nightmares without any trouble, given that they would share a bed. He remembered well the times when he would gently wake his brother up, shushing him gently while he pulled him close. So it was that Thor approached the cell on footsteps made silent by the softness of the soles of his boots, grateful for their bending nature for once. They had been a gift from Hogun, and he made a note to thank his friend fully later on.

 

Right then, however, Thor knew of only one thing: that he wanted to soothe his brother.

 

Silently, with a touch of his hand to the control panel, one of the honeycombed forcefield walls fell and he stepped inside the cell, after making adjustments to how it should appear. The wall shimmered into view again before it was turning opaque and smooth as frosted glass, the other screen following suit. No one would see them now - or better yet, hear them. Thor was pleased by this and he approached the bed, reaching out to his brother. No thought of tricks or manipulation was given, not with how deeply that Loki seemed to be sleeping right then. It was almost difficult with the way his brother writhed around on the bed that was pressed into one corner of the room where Frigga had set it up for Loki’s own comfort, but eventually, a large hand made contact with an arm, shifting upwards to squeeze a shoulder. The response to this gesture, to Thor’s hand wanting to clasp his brother’s neck as he had once done so so very often ( he remembered doing this before his coronation as true heir to the throne ) was not what he expected in the least, suffice it to say.

 

Loki came up off the bed like a wildcat, letting out a howl as his fingers stretched out to claw at Thor’s eyes and only quick reflexes honed from hours in the training rooms and his own surprise was enough to keep Thor’s head suddenly ducked as the nails caught along the side of his face near a temple, scratching gouges of red shade into the golden skin; it immediately bloomed wet with blood, the hot liquid running down the side of the thunder god’s face to saturate a portion of his beard. Such new pain jostled Thor out of his stupor of shock and he was seizing Loki’s hands to secure his brother from lashing out once more at him. It had not been the reply he had anticipated from his brother, not in the least, and Thor rumbled loudly, speaking up as he did so, all the while holding Loki’s hands out and away from both himself (and his face) and Loki’s own body out of fear that his brother might have attempted to harm himself instead.

 

“Loki-- Loki! Stop! It’s me, Loki!”

 

A moment of silence rung out between the two of them, only for Loki’s clouded green eyes to begin clearing as he started to blink away the dregs of an abruptly waking from a restless slumber. Thor knew when his brother realized who he was when those sharp features twisted suddenly and Loki made a singular futile attempt to pull his hands away, eyes moving to the fresh cuts on his face. There was no need to question himself about what happened, for Loki could feel the heaviness underneath one set of nails that told him that he had done it - that and the fresh rivulets of red that were starting to drip from where they had collected in his brother’s beard. It brought a smile of grim satisfaction to his mouth, but satisfaction that was short-lived in the face of the thunder god’s narrowing eyes. At last, Loki’s hands spread wide and open, showing that the dark nails would not be brought to bear once more. For now, at least. But Loki was viper quick, and that meant that he had to think of ways to make his brother back down for the time being.

 

“I am awake now, Thor. Will you release me? Or are we to have a talk like this instead?”

 

Thor regarded his brother intently, considering both Loki and his appearance. Woken from sleep as he had been, Thor found him facing Loki without one of his many, many illusions. Where his brother normally looked well poised and put together, always sleekly groomed, this Loki was not so. Straggles of uncombed hair fell past his shoulders and there were purple shadows painted under the green eyes which seemed so dull now. Life in the dungeons did not suit his quicksilver brother, but the younger son of Odin had to be punished for his crimes. One and all knew that, Thor included, but the sight of seeing Loki in such a fashion was enough to make Thor ache with the want to embrace his brother tightly, but doing so would not endear himself to Loki. So it was that the blond god pressed powerful fingers into those wrists with a hint of warning before releasing his sibling’s limbs. They were retracted to Loki, the shabby tunic of old faded green he wore only seeming to emphasize the lavender blotches beset on his eyes and over those cheekbones. 

 

“Brother..”

 

Loki’s shoulders grew rigid at once at his brother’s voice, those eyes of baleful green turned upon Thor striking the thunderer into silence for a moment. Never had he seen Loki look at him with such...  _ hatred.  _ It was enough to leave Thor’s body shivering briefly before his brows knitted into a heavy scowl as Loki leaned back on the cot that served for his bed and upon the wall. The silvertongue was not speaking now, not as he drew his legs upwards, bare feet nearly seeming to be swallowed up by the cuffs of his pants. It was not the first time that he had seen Loki in such a state, for he had used to sit like that when they were younger when Thor could ask of his brother’s troubles and have Loki be honest with him. It was enough to nearly make the prince of the Æsir reach out to touch his brother’s shoulder, but Thor restrained the urge with the sad wisdom of knowing that it would only make Loki withdraw. His reverie, however, was broken by the sound of Loki’s voice. 

 

“Now, why are you here, Thor? Surely you have far better things to do than spend time with such a  _ reviled  _ prisoner,” muttered Loki. “Or could it have been that you found yourself yearning for my company for some inane reason? No, not that. I imagine you are here because you wish to gloat about your victory over me at last. So, go on then. Start gloating. I won’t stop you.”

 

“Loki,” ground out the older of the two as he felt his temper prickle, “I am not here to gloat. I am here because I heard you.”

 

For a long moment, silence reigned high in the air, a display of shock passing over the Jotun’s face.  _ Jotun.  _ The mere word alone brewed Thor’s temper like nothing else did, but his brother was not one of those monsters. He was  _ Loki.  _ And had he not slain his own father? The thoughts were enough to start making Thor’s head ache again, knowing that he was due for a battle of wits with his brother. His sibling usually tended to ever get the best of him no matter how Thor tried, but there were times when he gained victory over his brother. This seemed to be one of those times and the hammer wielder smiled a faint, grim smile at seeing his brother so put out for a moment - even just a moment telling him much. If anything, it seemed that perhaps Loki did not know of his own sleeping habits. This meant that Thor was probably about to find himself on the backside of his brother’s tongue.

 

As usual, Loki didn’t disappoint.

 

“You  _ heard  _ me, Thor? Truly, you must be losing your touch if you think that hearing one night of bad sleep depicts anything unusual. I have screamed before now but you never heard that. I have done more than scream but you haven’t heard  _ that.  _ So tell me,  _ brother,  _ what makes you think that your sudden concern and attempt at solace means anything to me now? I have been taking care of myself for a long time in this room Odin keeps me in and you would  _ do well _ to remember that.”

 

“Our father--”

 

“He! Is not! MY FATHER! I HAVE NO FATHER! I have never had a father to speak of and don’t you try to say otherwise!”

 

The words were like a slap to the face and Thor found himself gritting his teeth while blue eyes flashed wickedly with the urge to wrap his hands around Loki’s throat and squeeze until his brother was listening to him. He had done it before, he remembered, Loki choking as he’d seized him with ease and stolen him from the flight craft to try speaking sense into his brother. A futile attempt, but he’d seen Loki’s pupils dilated after they landed, had noticed the looseness of his brother’s form and it was enough to make Thor question himself once more as he had done for days afterwards. The fact that he’d been  _ hard  _ when he’d noticed it, left wondering what would have happened if he had not been interrupted by Tony… It was a question that did not have an easy answer to it and he would not give into those urges now. No matter how much Loki tempted him to do so. Had his brother known? Thor wasn’t going to try to get an answer to the question, too aware that it was something that shouldn’t be answered. At least, that was what he told himself.

 

“The Allfather,” rumbled Thor quietly like the sounds of a distant storm upon the horizon of the land, “placed you here due to the fact that you tried to take the throne you once told me you never wanted. You were placed here for the crimes you committed, killing the Midgardians.” He was silent for a moment more, remembering his brother screaming of who had put him in this cell. He had nearly struck Loki then, had nearly turned his hand onto his brother’s face to silence him. Thor remembered Loki screaming once, too, that if he destroyed the Bifrost that he would never see Jane again. But Thor had not known how to take that seeming concern from Loki when he’d been hammering at the Rainbow Bridge which led to Heimdall’s station. Even afterwards, when he’d seen Loki falling into the abyss between the stars, screaming denials, Thor had not thought of Jane in that moment; he had thought of his brother falling from him. He had been left mourning the loss of his brother until Loki had returned, alive, at the head of a malicious plot even more malevolent than Loki usually conspired to. His brother had been ambitious, truly, but never had he indicated he ever wished to rule as a god - especially not over Midgardians who Loki had oft expressed little more than contempt for in the end.

 

If anything, it had not seemed like one of Loki’s own plans, for his brother had to admit it was not full of the manipulation and subtlety that Loki usually employed. His brother was too cunning for that, too prone to being prepared and careful. There had been another reason for Loki’s behavior, surely. To move in such bold methods and so openly was not how Loki  _ did things.  _ That thought had him frowning once more. Thor had had long hours to think on his brother’s actions, and then he was instead turning towards Loki who glared at him with baleful eyes which gleamed like fire in the dull lighting. Even trapped as he was, bedraggled and defeated, his brother truly held himself like a prince. It was almost amazing to see Loki in such a state once more, but it would not last. His brother knew it and so did Thor. The regal nature could not be sustained, not here in this place where Loki was without audience and anyone to use his tricks upon.

 

“He placed me in here because he knows that if he didn’t, I’d strangle him without hesitation,” spat Loki with venom. “Now then, if you are done being as clueless as you always are, Thor, then I suggest that you leave and permit me to rest.” To emphasize his words, Loki twisted away from Thor and huddled onto the cot, feet pulled away from his brother’s hip. Thor sighed heavily at the response from his brother but he should have expected that in truth. Loki always had loved to pout and it was obvious that this was no pout but a sulking. Thor was not at all satisfied with his brother’s behavior and reached out to grasp an ankle at last, seeking to drag the raven-haired god closer to himself. 

 

Loki shot up as he made to jerk his ankle away, but Thor’s grip was strong and he retained his grasp on that ( too thin ) limb that belonged to his brother. He was used to Loki wanting to get his hold on his brother off, but what had struck the lord of lightning was not his brother’s response but the brief flicker of absolute  _ fear  _ in those eyes. That was enough to bring the proud Æsir still and he spoke, voice soft as could be. “.. Loki? I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

His brother, proud, proud Loki, let out a wild laugh of bitter nature before he was trying to remove his ankle from the warm grasp of his brother. His brother who was seeing that Loki was far too thin for his own good. His brother who looked as if he didn’t sleep well. It was enough to make Thor worry - even as a spiteful part of him felt as if his brother  _ deserved  _ that thinness to his body, the gauntness which made his cheekbones sunken and his mouth--.. His mouth stood out like red wine against the pallor of his skin. For a moment, Thor stared at the bloody smear of color on Loki’s face before those blue eyes flicked upwards to meet the green ones. They stared at each other for a moment before Loki spoke up, voice a hissing rasp of dry throat.

 

“You need to  _ leave  _ now, Thor. I need sleep.”

 

“.. aye, I suppose you do.”

 

Thor swallowed before his thumb rubbed along Loki’s ankle just once before he released it, standing and heading for the nearby wall of the cell. He said nothing but he knew he would be back again to visit Loki. He knew it like the sun knew how to rise. But he didn’t look back as he passed through the wall, the walls fading to transparency, and neither did the large blond look back towards his brother, not seeing the longing on Loki’s face. No, he was pacing up the stairs and leaving Loki behind. It was what he had to do now.


	3. let it rain, let it pour, down on ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor contemplates Loki’s words and understands that all is not as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember folks, comments help keep your fanfic authors alive! Kudos and comments feed the beast even more easily!

As Thor left the dungeons, he was left with Loki’s words ringing in his head. Words that betrayed his brother’s spite - but also told him much of Loki’s fey moods. He had spoken of strangling Odin but whether that was his brother being angry over his confinement or a wrath that came from being lied to all his life, Thor didn’t know. He lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair before remembering he wore it plaited, at least partially - only to jam his hand into it anyways and complete the frustrated gesture. Loki’s shout of having no father had struck the prince deeply, leaving the blond to blow out a sigh of irritation as he headed for the mess hall, certain he could find some mead and food to sate this sudden mood of his.

 

He had heard from Frigga that Laufey of Jotunheim had been his brother’s true father, or at least his sire. To have killed your own father, though.. Thor couldn’t imagine completing such an act of patricide, no matter who his father had been. But Loki was not him and he had always been prone to strange moods, so Thor told himself. True, he understood Loki’s despisement for Odin, his anger and wrath that showed itself in how his brother had rebelled so fiercely to the point of trying to grasp the throne for his own purposes. 

 

_ A throne would suit me ill.  _

 

That had been true, Thor was sure of it. So why had Loki tried to do that? Why had he tried to destroy Jotunheim? If Loki had fled to there, it would have been one thing. Thor would have understood that. His brother was not an Æsir, but he had been raised as one. His mother loved Loki dearly and Thor too still cherished his brother, no matter that he had once told Loki that any betrayal on his behalf would see him dead. That he had once held a glimmer of hope that he could see his brother returned to them. How could he not cherish him, when he’d thought Loki dead, carrying him with himself and Jane alike out of that place? He couldn’t have left him there. He couldn’t. He’d screamed for Heimdall, had rushed with Loki bleeding in his arms through the Bifrost and had been met with healers whom he’d given his fey little brother to only to rush back to Jane’s side and once more win the day.

 

Odin had been furious of course and had nearly banished both him and Loki to Midgard, but Frigga had soothed her husband, pale as she was with recovery from her own wounds. Now Thor trod carefully about his father, a man he had feared so much as a child once more inspiring that same fear in his son yet again. His father’s temper was not one to challenge, but Thor knew better than to have his father hear those words from his own mouth. Better to let his father not know that his heir feared that temper. That he feared his own father. It would not spell out peace for Asgard. So Thor would keep his counsel and pray that his father would one day relent on what he considered a suitable punishment for Loki. Did he know that his own son was wasting away in the dungeons? Did he even care? Such thoughts brought little relief to the crown prince and once more, Thor scratched at his head, eyes closing. There was little need to keep them open, his feet carrying him unerringly to the place where he would gain food and drink alike. Maybe if he were in his cups, Loki’s words and behavior would make far more sense to him. But Loki had not said that much. He had barely said anything, his words leading to empty ends. That was not like his brother.

 

But Loki had accused him of being clueless. As the words echoed in his ears, Thor stepped into the hall of feasting, he planned but to only flag down a servant in order to have a tray of food delivered to his chambers, accompanied by a small cask of mead. It would do well to have time alone tonight. Perhaps a tavern would do after all. There were some that remained open all night long but the hour was late and Thor was not in the mood to go seek one out. He would have been poor company for anyone that might’ve tried speaking with him and that thought was enough to bring a grim smile to the prince’s mouth. But it lightened as he spotted his friends, going to sit by the Warriors Three and Sif as well, nodding to them all while seating himself by Volstagg’s side.

 

“You’re up late,” responded Sif to the nod from Thor. But the lingering expression on his face told them much. “Don’t you have a mission tomorrow to go to Alfheim in order to secure a trade deal?”

 

Thor grunted softly at his on-again off-again lover, though they had been very  _ off  _ for a long time now and Thor couldn’t recall when they’d last been on; it had been a long time, after all, and Sif was beautiful. Perhaps she would help to warm whatever coldness seemed to permeate his very being if he just tried that once again, even if he already knew that he wasn’t going to try once more. They’d ended that long ago and Thor was aware that it was perhaps better to not try that once more. No matter what Odin seemed to encourage from him as far as Sif was concerned. It was another grim line of thought and they must have shown on his face for Fandral reached over and clapped his shoulder, grinning brightly. “Now, Thor, it’s usually Hogun who prefers to be the grim one! Surely you’ve a smile for us in there somewhere, yes? Don’t look so grim!”

 

Thor couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at Fandral’s words, feeling oddly warmed by them. Fandral always knew how to soften his moods and that remained true, even now. “Yes, I do go to Alfheim tomorrow. I suppose that I am.. simply preoccupied as of late. It will be a good meeting, however, and I imagine that they’ll be quick to see what new edicts they can extract from us as one of our protectorates.” He didn’t miss the looks from his friends, the way they looked towards one another. Perhaps they had guessed what he had been doing, perhaps not. Whatever the case, they did look worried and Thor knew that he would perhaps have to explain himself. But no, he decided then, he would not. This was going to be dealt with privately and he determined that to himself already. 

 

“Well, did you anger some tavern wench?” asked Fandral finally as he gestured to the blood that had been drying on Thor’s face. He had forgotten about the scratches inflicted by Loki’s nails until just now and as if being recalled, the marks on his face stung. Thor hadn’t even thought to clean them off before he’d come to the hall. Had he been smarter, then he would have gone to get them tended to. But Thor lifted his hand and touched the tacky fluids before snorting a laugh. “You could say that I got surprised instead by someone. There’s nothing to worry about!”

 

Once more, eyebrows raised but they accepted his words with slow nods. As a servant came by the group, Thor ordered himself a roasted chicken and fresh mead, ignoring the woman as she bowed and then darted off to fulfill his desires. At another time, Thor might’ve appreciated her well-made curvature, and probably would’ve invited her back to his chambers for a night as well, enjoying a tumble or two with the wench. Or more. But after his banishment to Midgard, after Loki’s fall, it had been long years since Thor had ever thought of taking someone to his bed. Sex didn’t feel like it had any more, no longer fulfilling and able to sate the emptiness inside him for a while. To Thor, it felt like it was merely a result of no longer finding joy in the freedoms of such simple sex. He was able to do as he pleased, of course, but no longer did Thor do many of the things that had pleased him but years ago. It was strange to see maturity in the son of Odin, but there it was all the same. 

 

Even Jane, his sweet dear Jane, couldn’t have done so, though she had soothed Thor’s rage and heart and smoothed out his rage over time. He had promised her a return but it had been a slow one. And what had once brewed in interest did not seem to be of that way any longer. She was wonderful, his Jane, but Odin did not approve of their dalliances and Thor knew that his father was right, in the regretful corners of his heart. One day, he would marry to produce children, vital heirs to the throne, and it would take a long while until he did so, so Thor told himself. He was the rightful heir of Asgard and while Odin and Frigga both seemed to fret over his continued bachelor’s existence, Thor insisted on his right to choose his own spouse. 

 

His reflections continued even after the servant girl returned from the kitchens with his requested meal in hand. Thor tore into the chicken and knew he should get a healing stone, lest he gained scars from Loki’s nails, but it didn’t seem to matter at the moment. His brother had lashed out and Thor was still trying to figure out the why of it. Loki had never responded in such fashion before now when it came to being touched by Thor and this time should have been no different at that. Taking a sip of mead, he nodded absently here and there as Fandral prattled on and on about what he was going to be doing over the next week or so while Thor was gone, hearing a claim that all those beauties that swooned over the thunder god would be ripe for the plucking. He didn’t stop laughing even as Sif made to empty a tankard of ale over his head, Hogun holding her back while she spat curses that would have made her brother almost blush to hear them. But Thor was occupied with his trip to Alfheim tomorrow and with events of tonight and as he finished stripping the bones, he rose to stand and smiled at his friends.

 

“I must retire for the evening. I will see you within a week,” said Thor while his head bowed for a moment in farewell only for him to turn and depart before they could speak up. He was not in a social mood and it was showing through the brooding frown that weighed down his face all the way back to his chambers. There, he entered his bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. Three long scratches swept down from his hairline and across his left cheek. If untreated, perhaps they would scar after all. The dried blood needed to be cleaned and he took the time to wash the blood from his face and beard with slow motions. That done, he stripped down to his smalls and settled into the scented sheets of his bed, the richness of lavender and more filling his nose and leaving him to breathe deep as he folded his arms under his head. Troubled thoughts filled his head, each and every one about Loki, and it was to those thoughts he eventually fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Thor returned from Alfheim a week later, feeling his head aching from political maneuverings but with a treaty in hand that had pleased his father. He would have done far better but for the fact that many of his days and nights had been troubled by reminders of Loki that would not go away. Still he had managed to do his job as prince and as prince he had brought forth the best of his abilities in diplomacy. True, they were not the best, given he was still so new to the concept of diplomacy and peace only years having passed since his usual ways of war-like nature. But Odin and Frigga were proud of him and he had smiled at his father’s words, a smile that had come hard won as Loki’s words of shouting that Odin was not his father ringing in his head loudly. 

 

For days afterward, he had spent time in the training yards until his arms were sore and his back ached, but he knew better than to go see Loki again. At least, that’s what he told himself he was doing during the whole process while he permitted himself to not think about Loki at all. All Thor wanted was to stop thinking of his brother, of those pale cheeks and dark eyes, of the fear that he’d seen in Loki’s gaze. Fear that had had no place showing up for he would never have hurt his brother. Fear that had shown up when he’d only  _ touched  _ Loki. What had happened to his brother in that time when he’d been gone? The answers that came to mind were troubling and he knew that he didn’t want to have them answered. But was not knowing the better option? He didn’t know. And the not knowing was what drove Thor up the wall. But day after day, with the warm summer sun of Asgard illuminating the Golden City, he spent his time sparring with others and finding that it was one of the only things that soothed him.

 

It was after one such day that Frigga came to find her son, watching him wipe away the sweat and wash his body clean of dirt and grime without saying a word. Thor knew she was there while he wiped the towel over his straggled hair, damp with the proof of exertion. The cloth ran over arms that bore faint bruises, fresh and old alike which denoted how much he had been working as of late. Tonight would require another hot bath to ease them, as well as to get the young god clean as he preferred to be, especially when tonight seemed to be yet another feast night for the halls of Asgard. Sif had had it right once upon a time when she said he used to celebrate for weeks. But the on-going events in his life had left the enthralling nature of the feasts dulled now. Then the thunder god, at last, glanced to his mother, inclining his head for a long moment to her. “Allmother,” came the low brewing of his soft rumble of a voice. “I-”

 

“Something’s troubling you, Thor,” she said, not minding interrupting him at all. “You have not been at the training yards like this for years. Not since the first time that Loki fell into the space between the stars. So confide in me, my son - what is it now? Is it your brother?”

 

How easily Frigga could read him and Thor knew it. His head bowed for a moment before he was inhaling slowly, a hand lifting to run freely through the locks of flaxen shade which fell back into place easily once his fingers had finished combing through it. He couldn’t deny that his mother was right when it came to the fact that it was Loki who was weighing heavily on his mind. But the idea of telling her didn’t seem right somehow. But she knew how to read him considering that Frigga knew all the reluctant behavior from her son and the fair-haired queen approached her son to place her hand along his arm, looking up into his eyes. Thor had gotten many things from both parents, but Frigga had given Thor his gentle heart and her golden hair, and perhaps that was why Thor sighed under the sensation of her touch, feeling a tightness in his muscles fading away before his eyes came to meet her own, lips twisted faintly in a moue of recalcitrant display. He had not wanted things to come to this but it seemed that it had done so.

 

“I didn’t mean to worry you.. But you are right. Loki has been weighing heavily in my mind far too much as of late. I went to see him, days ago, and something about his behavior has left my mind and heart heavy with too many burdensome thoughts.” 

 

“Loki has ways of doing that,” said Frigga as she handed him his tunic. Watching her son pull it on, she pressed her arm into the crook of his elbow and urged him to walk with her. “Your father ignores him because he thinks that out of sight is out of mind, but I know Loki weighs deep in his thoughts too. I have been worried about your brother; something in his behavior has been troubling him far too much as of late and he will not speak to me of what this pain he carries is. He has been able to confide in me for years now, but this is something that I can say even I have not been able to carry from his heart.” She sighed and then glanced up to him as they headed for the gardens that she tended so carefully for all these long years. “Perhaps he will talk to you if you go see him again. I will not tell your father, but I will say whatever visits you pay to him should be kept.. Discreet.”

 

Thor glanced sharply at Frigga whose brows lifted for a moment, knowing what his mother was saying; to visit Loki and see if he could not get the truth from his brother. One large hand came to rest atop hers and he breathed in and out for a moment before he was letting himself bow his head slightly. “I’ll see what I can find out,” said Thor quietly. “Loki.. has so much wrath in him that I don’t know how to approach him anymore. But I will do my best, mother. I know his pain distresses us both.”

 

Frigga’s smile was sad for a moment before she reached up and pulled his head down in order to press a soft kiss along his brow. “Be careful, my son. Your brother has been left with a poisonous ache in his heart and that is rotting him from the inside out. It will infect you too if you are not careful.”

 

The words were advice given freely and Thor could only wonder at them. Was this his mother giving him her blessing to continue speaking to his brother? He could only assume so and so he nodded after a moment, squeezing her hand in his own. The nearness of her loss had affected him deeply, and Thor had grown ever more vigilant about guarding his mother. Malekith’s plot had come so near to succeeding that it’d weighed his heart down. To nearly lose Loki-- that had somehow been  _ worse  _ for while he and his mother got along, losing Loki would’ve left no chance of reconciliation between them. Perhaps that was why he’d rushed back to Asgard while Jane had returned to Midgard. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t help but try to save his brother now. Thor was a man with a heart twisted up, wondering what those mortals he named friend and ally one and all would have said. Perchance they would have instead told him that he was making a foolish ideal into a reality. 

 

“I know, mother,” said Thor softly before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “By your leave.”

 

Frigga waved him off and Thor abandoned the training field to return at last to his chambers. Not even wiping down could remove all the sweat and dust he’d accumulated and so it was to a hot bath he turned. Sinking into the water with a groan, and then below the surface, Thor held his breath and closed his eyes, surrounded by a peaceful silence as he laid there, soaking in the heated water until his lungs clamored for air and he surfaced once more, slowly so. His hair demanded cleaning and large fingers scrubbed and combed at it until it once more shone gold and then the rest of his body was tended to. Handfuls of sweet soap-sand were plastered to his skin and he worked on them until they foamed, scouring his skin of dead cells and grime alike, leaving him feeling pleasantly exfoliated. But of course, alone as he was, his mind had time to wander and it wandered, yet again, to Loki.

 

As the water circulated in his bath to suck the dirtied portions away and fresh heat returned, Thor leaned his arms along the rim of the tub and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling mosaic, patterned with the Rainbow Bridge in chips smaller than the nail of his smallest finger; so too was there a sun rising, clouds, birds in the sky with gem-like eyes. He saw none of it and was left breathing out a long sigh of sound. He knew that his time away from Loki had been too long indeed and that meant that he would be going to see his brother once again tonight. It was inevitable for Thor. As a boy, he’d been near unable to handle Loki being away from himself for anything beyond even a mere hour. When had it changed? When had it become that he could go days, even weeks or months, without speaking to him before he remembered and would speak to Loki while guilt gnawed inside the thunder god? He couldn’t put it in words and so Thor didn’t even try. He only knew that his brother was what mattered and that he was doing him a disservice by pretending he didn’t exist - or worse, by telling himself that Loki didn’t matter anymore.

 

But the words he said in private would be hard to keep up when he saw Loki once again. Still, he heaved himself from the bath and dressed slowly once dry; soft breeches of storm gray, a white shirt and a brown tunic overlaid that and once more, he wrapped his dark cloak around his shoulders. He would go to the feast, pilfer some food items, take them to Loki. The clandestine thought had him smiling for a moment for he knew his brother would appreciate the fine candied nuts that had always been his favorite, cider spiced things that delighted Thor just as much. Cheeses and breads disappeared as well once he got there, Thor taking enough to not even put a dent into things as he laughed with his friends, mead flowing freely through their cups. So it was that when the feast wound down, when it grew quieter, he was more than a bit inebriated when he rose to head for the dungeons. That had him feeling comfortable with his brother’s incoming sarcasm. It would be harsh, true, but Thor could not be bothered by it. Not when he was to see Loki yet again. 

 

His tread down the steps into the dungeons was quiet as ever before he found himself coming to the corner cell at last, looking in towards Loki. He was reading again, the perpetual shifting change in books a mark of Frigga’s work. She cared for her son, even if he were not of her womb. Thor swayed slightly, though if in thought or from sheer drink, he didn’t know. But at last, he stepped forward and headed for the cell, knowing he could pass through the honeycombed walls if he wished. But Loki looked at peace with himself for the time being and it made Thor reluctant to interrupt his brother’s reading. Still, the items he’d brought Loki would need to be offered to him and while he was sure his brother would turn his nose up at many of them, Thor was determined to make an effort no matter what when it came to trying to give Loki something pleasing. Even if that something was just some sugar-coated nuts. He hesitated still, however, and it was not until Loki looked up and saw him that he stepped forward, refusing to teeter as the alcohol in his system demanded that he do. It would not be wise to appear at less than his best and at last, he cleared his throat before stepping towards the cell. 

 

“Good evening, Loki.”

  
And green eyes turned upwards towards the thunder god.


	4. even in these chains ( you can't stop me )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In whch Loki gets fed up with Thor's persistence and lashes out at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Writer's block and technological issues with my computer hampered me for a bit. But I finally got this done! Hope y'all enjoy! Remember, comments keep your author alive and happy!

“Finally come to gloat, brother? Have you come to do so at last?”

 

The words were acerbically inflicted as they passed through thin lips, Loki closing the book and setting it to the side as he did so. He didn’t look any better than the last time that Thor had seen him, but it was good to see him all the same, Thor thought. But Loki regarded his brother with those green eyes, cold and flat as a serpent's stare and a wise voice within Thor told him that he would do well to tread carefully here. After all, his brother was not going to be so willing to agree to whatever he thought and a plan began to form in the back of Thor’s head, the nascent gelling of an idea  that would perhaps see both himself and his brother banished from Asgard. But Loki’s voice broke through the mead befuddled thoughts of Thor and he gave himself a small shake, trying to recollect what his brother had just said to him while he’d stood there, contemplating on an idea that would see Loki free, somehow. Of course, the nascent idea of a plan was not best made when the brain that was making it was currently soused on dwarven mead and without a clear line of guidance that would come through but later and in the morning when he groaned through his hangover.

 

For his part, Loki was all but glaring at the inebriated giant of a brother who was swaying back and forth, looking pleased with himself. Such a sign had used to mean trouble when he was younger, but right then, all Loki could think of was that his brother had succeeded in some mighty battle or something similar and had come to boast and brag as was his usual nature. Of course, Loki wanted nothing to do with hearing such things, not when it came from Thor. Too many bad memories of how his brother would embellish stories with food made his mouth curve into a sharp sneer; it wasn’t uncommon of Thor to use a leg of food in place of Mjolnir, destructively describing how he would parry and hurl the hammer, taking his time in splattering those nearby with the juices of whatever poor bit of meat had fallen to hand. Loki had hated sitting by him during those times for Thor cared not who got their clothes messy, and for Loki, fastidiously clean Loki, it was almost like torture in his own right. But there was no piece of meat to be used now, he saw. So perhaps something else then?

 

But the prince of the icelands waited to see what Thor wanted, for no matter his vitriolic tongue’s nature, one that sometime extended to even Frigga ( and he could never bring himself to admit to her that it had been his words that had almost killed her ) from time to time, it could be withheld and tempered down in order to gain the best understanding of a situation. It simply remained that most of his venom was wasted on Thor as a proxy of their father. Odin, after all, had never deigned to step foot down here since he had condemned his second son to eternal imprisonment as a result for his crimes; the hypocrisy was truly galling to Loki who knew his father’s bloody past all too well, having learned it as he grew up. To the Allfather, it was as if Loki was as good as dead. That suited the Jotun prince just fine for they never got along, not truly. Not to mention that he was sure Odin was treating him as if he were dead just to wear him out and anger Frigga who had pleaded for her son. But no, Odin had almost lost Frigga and he was no fit ruler for Asgard, not any longer. The thought made a snarl come to Loki’s mouth, teeth bared and eyes wild and shoulders tense; Thor’s voice broke into his thoughts however and his eyes jerked upwards to watch as Thor stepped through the walls of the cell.

 

“Have I done something to offend you already, brother? And here I brought you food from the feat tables that I thought you would enjoy.”

Foods? From the feast halls? Loki’s mouth twitched faintly into a smile. If Odin knew that his precious golden heir was muggling food to the snake under the golden throne, he would’ve had quite a few words to say about that. But Thor was setting down napkin wrapped meats and fruits, some of the small packets faintly soaked with the juices. A wedge of delicious goat’s cheese followed, but what truly made Loki perk up in spite of himself was the napkin that clattered with the sugared nuts he so missed. True, his repast was always better than the other prisoners’, but Loki still didn’t receive the same rich foods he once had when dwelling in the halls so airy and bright. So he waited for thor’s hands to pull back from the food before Loki approached it like a wary cat and then, only then, did he snatch up the cloth hidden treasures of the meat and cheese. 

 

It seemed that his brother had not held back on getting Loki finer foods than he was normally gifted with to eat. He would have to thank his brother somehow, but that would come later when the Jotun prince was not fixed on the small feast of food set up before him and just for him. If any of the other prisoners saw and cared, then it mattered little to Loki as he fell onto the food with a hunger that belied his stoic attitude. Fresh roasted pheasant, seasoned and with crisped skin, fell between his lips and he devoured it all within a short period of time, gulping it down and licking at the bones when both breast and thigh of the bird were gone. The fruits he ate with the cheese, interspersing bite of pear or berries with a chunk of white cheese and he almost groaned in pleasure at the taste that was bubbling on his tongue. He had only water to wash it down with, but that was alright. Soon it was just the pile of nuts that was left and Loki sank back onto his bed to stare at his brother while he nibbled at them.

 

“Was this the reason you came down here once more, Thor? To show generosity in your pity of me? Or was something else on your mind? Do share, brother. I’m sure I’ll find it fascinating.”

 

Thor frowned at his brother, listening to those white teeth nibble at the sugar ( watching the tongue of pink lick across it ) off of the nuts and found himself staring as Loki slowly worked an almond between his lips, turning it over and over to remove the apple cider coating it was sugared with. He wasn’t staring intentionally, but there was something about Loki doing such a thing that had him ready for a roll in the cold snows of Jotunheim. The air in the cell seemed, suddenly, much too warm for even his tastes ( and Thor was fond of sun-baked days where it was enough to leave most sweltering; but for he, the one who commanded lightning itself, it was a wonderful feeling ) and he coughed before looking away and easing himself into a seat. His temper hadn’t been riled yet, but Loki seemed ready to push it into view if the words were anything to go by. How could they have come so far from where they had once been?

 

“This was not done out of pity, Loki,” growled the thunderer at last. “I did this because I thought you would appreciate having food to eat that wasn't just your regular fare. You seemed to enjoy most of it, after all, and I thought the nuts would be--”

 

“Appreciate your pity, you mean. You must want something, Thor, to have brought me such fare from the tables, sneaking it out from underneath Odin’s eye. Tell me, brother - did it trill you do to so? Did it make you happy  to be doing something like this? To bring me food when I certainly never would have expected you to make such a gesture? Surely something must have driven you to do this. Something that would’ve been of benefit to you. So do tell me,” said Loki as another of the spiced, sugared nuts found its way home in his mouth. “Tell me why you did this and maybe I’ll listen to you when you declare your intentions.”

 

The more that Loki spoke, the more that Thor found himself beginning to glare at his sibling. He had forgotten how much pleasure Loki got out of antagonizing hi and the jotun was doing a certainly good job now. It was an effort to strangle just the arms of the chair he had dropped to sit in and not his brother’s neck. That would be too easy and Thor hissed out an angry breath of air as he glared at his brother. Lightning flickered in the depths of blue, but it was met with the sly confidence in those green eyes, a confidence that had never wavered, not even when Tor was at his most wrathful. Sif, Volstagg, Fandral - even mighty Hogun - would avoid him in such moods. But never Loki. Loki would laugh at his temper until it seemed ready to explode and this seemed to be the same as ever. Loki, amusing himself at Thor’s expense. Loki who laughed, always laughed -- heavy fists drew themselves into being and Thor had to keep from trying out the size of his brother’s neck between the span of his palms. 

 

( Thor already knew how Loki’s neck felt between his hands, already knew how smooth and slim it was, with a steady pulse and a coolness to the skin he had attributed to the night air, but no it was out of Loki’s heritage; he had pleaded, asked for his brother to give up on this dream that he seemed to cling to without a care for what it would do to everyone else. What it would do to  _ him.  _ No matter what Odin might have said, if he had been there, Thor could never kill his brother. )

 

The thunder god frowned deeply at his brother for being so antagonistic and Loki only smirked when he saw the expression in play. When it all came down to it, Thor was truly like a lost puppy sometimes. He wanted attention, sought it out from those he knew, and the idea of his twin trying now to keep the peace between them was laughable. Since when had there ever been peace between them? He and Thor had always fought; playfully, at first, as brothers - and then far more earnestly as they’d gotten older. Arguments could be recalled, his brother’s foolishness often showing itself in the most basic of ways, and yet Loki knew his brother was not a fool. So why, then, did he often act as such? It was enough to drive Loki absolutely wild and this was no different. He wanted to see what Thor would do with him. If Thor would do anything at all. Sometimes, he was quick to swing a fist - other times, he treated Loki like the Jotun was the most precious thing in the world to him. And how Loki wished his brother would make his mind up.

 

Thor, for his part, finally decided to speak up, voice a growl of sound in the wake of his brother’s mocking nature. “I didn’t do any of this out of pity, Loki. I sought to brighten your night with food I knew you enjoyed and that’s been all. If you want to see it for something else, then I can only say that you should check your own eyes. What did any of this say of pity to you? Was the idea of my sharing food with you so intolerable that you have to insult me for doing so?” As his turn of speech ended, the mighty thunderer found himself glowering, the warm hint of mead in his veins being driven out by the sheer fact that his brother chose to be obstinate. But Thor had learned to control his temper over the years. Yet, somehow, Loki brought it all singing back as if nothing had been learned and he was left trying to figure out how his younger sibling could get under his skin so easily. No one else could; none of the Avengers, not his father, nor his mother -- it was always just Loki.

 

Another of those nuts crept into Loki’s mouth as he savored them as best he could, all too aware of their finite supply in his hands. Again, he took his time in sucking it free of the flavoring, seeing eyes of incandescent blue on his mouth. What was Thor thinking, leering at him like that? Some could take it as an insult; others probably would’ve seen it as a sign of desire. But Loki knew that wasn’t the case, not with him. Asgardians prized bravery and valor, brawn and strength. And he had none of those attributes that were so highly dictated amongst his people, he knew. Not by their standards and not by his own. He had no desire to learn if this was fetishism or something else that was making Thor look at him that way. But the moment of silence could only extend for the life of his indulgence and it was with regret that Loki bit and chewed on the meat of the nut, slowly so and doing it as silently as he could before his throat bobbed in swallow.

 

“What I think the food was remains mere pity for your  _ poor  _ brother, trapped as he is down here. With no one but a few brave soul willing to visit him, you had seen something the other night that stirred that do-gooder aspect which you have. I can’t figure out if you try to do good now because of your faults - or in spite of them. I truly doubt it was just that girl of yours from Midgar,” retorted Loki, leering at the mention of Jane. As expected, Thor’s brows furrowed deeper and his body language started to read like a threat. It was enough to send giddy little prickles down Loki’s spine. It had been long enough since he’d angered Thor to the point of being hurt, that maybe what he wanted done now was to remember why he remained in a cell. So he kept probing with the needle of his voice, scratching deeper and yet deeper underneath Thor’s skin because he knew that was what his brother delighted in too sometimes. His brother would never admit to being so fucked up, but Loki knew the way a bird knows how to fly when it is time.

 

“Oh, don’t tell me a single day and night or two with her would be enough to make you reconsider your own behavior. You were always the battle drunk fool and I doubt that’s changed much in the past few years. We are brothers, since you insisted upon it, and if we are to be brothers, then I will tell you now, Thor -- you aren’t all that changed. Not with what I know about you.”

 

“Don’t you talk about Jane like that--” started Thor, only to have his words overridden as if they didn’t even matter to Loki. Perhaps they didn’t. He knew his brother was bitter, like rotten wormwood that would shatter if his hammer only struck it at the right place. And Thor was growing tempted to shatter his brother out of sheer spite. Theirs was a dichotomy that kept them clung together like magnets, always repelling and yet attracting one another in equal turns. And today, this was a moment where Thor felt repelled by his brother. That was nothing new, unfortunately but Loki’s words were a hiss of sound, demanding that Thor acknowledge them.

 

“Oh it seems it was her. What happened, Thor? Did you fuck her? Was her body so sweet as that? It must have been for her to take your balls from you! Lo and behold, maybe I should try that myself! Beg Father’s forgiveness and go find myself an Earth woman to fuck! Hel knows that it worked on you against your reckless nature! Magic, brother! The magic of women and you were so quickly ensnared by her--”

 

Loki’s words were broken off by his brother’s hands about his neck leaving him to choke and claw at strong wrists. He had not seen Thor moving, but he felt his back slam into the wall ( along with the back of his head ) and he was gasping for air, trying to pull it into lungs that were suddenly without it. “You listen, brother, and listen well,” growled Thor just as he had that night when he had made to take Loki from the Avengers before Tony had stopped him. “Jane Foster is a good woman and I will not have you slandering her name in an attempt to anger me. You are usually so much more gifted than this that it is a harsh attempt at best. Insult me as you please, but I tell you now - you will leave her out of it.”

 

The fingers clawing at his wrists began to grow more earnest and Loki was suddenly squirming and writhing as if to get away from him. But Thor was built both broad and tall and he used his own body to pin his brother in place against the wall, staring hard and cold at Loki’s face. What he was witnessing did not suit proud Loki. There was a wildness to the Jotun that Thor could not ever recall seeing before now. At least he’d never seen anything of the sort before his brother had fallen into the Abyss between stars and was swallowed up by the void which had concealed him even from Heimdall’s gaze. But they had thought him dead once and all and Thor had mourned the longest, even beyond the grief of Frigga. Whatever had happened to his brother during that time in the darkness, it seemed as if it had only left lingering marks on his brother. What those marks were, Thor could not have guessed at for he was not able to come to dark conclusions so heinous to think of just yet, but if his brother could stop  _ squirming-- _

 

Loki keened in his throat, a soft noise that sounded far more like a whimpering and he twisted again against Thor only to freeze up when Loki noticed something that had him ready to flee Thor and hide from him. Never had he wanted to hide from Thor before now - he had always faced him without fear and had let his pride do much of the work. But that was before he had fallen and he had not believed Thor when his brother claimed they all mourned his loss. To demand an answer of his brother like that, to know if they had truly missed him was something else. And he knew he was trying to distract himself from the obvious problem that Thor now sported, though whether it was the closeness of their bodies or something else didn’t matter to Loki all of a sudden. He just knew he wanted and needed freedom from the thunder god’s presence because Thor was -- he was --

 

His brother was  _ aroused _ .

  
He didn’t want to notice it, think about it, didn’t want his brother near him for he thought of something -- someone -- else who would hold him and choke him like this. Someone who thought that his struggles were cute and then he’d-- Loki’s eyes squeezed shut for a long moment and he tried not to vomit. Vomiting while your brother was choking you would’ve been the lowest point of his life that he could recall and Loki had been through many low points by ow in his life. But he pushed at Thor, trying to get his brother to free him of those hands. He needed to get away from Thor, now, but the thunderer had other plans, it seemed. Hands made large and big by practice with a hammer, with swords and axes, with all manner of weapons loosened up, clasping rather than squeezing that neck. For a moment, Loki thought that his brother was going to free him but a single look upwards at his brother’s still thunderous face said very much otherwise. There was not going to be any freedom from his brother just yet and Loki’s eyes watered for a moment before Thor was suddenly pressing a kiss onto his chilled mouth.


	5. i'm down on my knees (begging you please)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor takes advantage of the fact that Loki's powers are (mostly) sealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember folks - just because you want something doesn't mean the other person does. This chapter got a little dark. But also, huzzah! Two chapters in one week! Thank you all for reading this. I'm glad that you're enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

Thor’s mouth pressed upon Loki’s hard and strong, ignoring the chill that was there. He thought it was just the Jotun burn but surely that wouldn’t have been the case. Loki was so in control of himself that Thor doubted that he could even bring a muster of blue to his skin though try he might; he had not seen it for himself, this.. Other side of his brother. But the rumors… the hints at what he might look like thanks to the Jotuns he’d seen before now - no, Loki would not be able to change. Most of Loki’s magic was sealed in this cell, though his brother could still do cantrips and small displays of magic. Without looking, he did not see Loki’s wide eyes, the fearful stare fixed upon his features. No, his own eyes had closed and he could taste only the sugar of the nuts that Loki had been eating, lending a sweetness to those lips which had been spitting such vitriol. Thor didn’t want to let go of Loki in this moment and he ignored the way his brother’s arms pushed at his chest, didn’t hear the muffled curses. In fact, it was not until sharp teeth were suddenly biting into his lips with enough force to draw blood that Thor jerked back and away from Loki, a hand clapped to his mouth, palm instantly becoming smeared with scarlet and he growled, glaring at Loki.

 

Of _course_ his snake of a brother would bite him. But Thor was not expecting to have seen Loki crumple in on himself, little more than a heap of limbs and clothing and rumpled hair hanging in the sharply cut face, before the younger spare was moving swiftly on hands and knees away from Thor and to the small bathroom each cell had. The door whisked open and Thor found himself staring as he heard his brother vomiting. Vomiting? Ah, surely not-- his kiss had not been that bad but Thor began to recollect Loki making to push him away with his arms. Loki had been struggling against him and that was what he’d mistaken for … wanting? Is that what he’d seen it as? Yes, he had. He’d done this. The mighty god waited but a moment or two before heading after the brunet prince, who was heaving to bring up all the food he had eaten that day. Loki flinched when Thor touched him before another heave had more bile and food coming up while Thor gathered his hair out of his brother’s face. What had happened? Loki had never replied to him before like that. Certainly not when they were younger. He had expected Loki to kiss him back, maybe swear at him - but to bite and then spend time vomiting? Even Thor wasn’t that stupid.

 

Somewhere along the lines, his brother had been actively traumatized. What once had been theirs and theirs alone had been tainted by someone else. Maybe that nameless master he’d once accused Loki of having, demanding to know as he had who controlled the would-be king. Had he known what actions could do to his brother, if he had known then what he had done now, known now ( though he admitted it was all still wild speculation and guess work ) perhaps he would have tried to save Loki more earnestly. Perhaps? No, he would have. This was his fault, somehow. He had lost Loki long ago and he was still losing him. Like this, here, now, they were broken and he didn’t know how to reply to it. Thor knew that he was not helping his brother. Oh, true, he was holding his hair back from getting vomit in it but he knew he could do more. He would do more. Loki was wasting away in here and he could not help but find the fact a source of despair, even if he was not the one responsible for it. It hurt, seeing his brother like this, and Thor didn’t say anything when Loki seemed to finish with his purging of his body, one hand clawing up before pressing the button that took it away. Loki’s arms supported his head as he slumped over the toilet and Thor began to gently rub the back of that neck, only to stop when Loki flinched from him.

 

“I’m not going to harm you, brother,” said Thor quietly. “I make mistakes only once when it comes to you. I am.. sorry for what I did. If you need to talk at all…”

 

“Get. Out.”

 

They were the only words Loki spoke as he pushed away from the toilet only to collapse onto the floor. Thor’s blue eyes softened up as he regarded his brother’s current state of being, mouth twisting to the side for once. He couldn’t believe that this was his brother. Loki was proud, patronizing, volatile, controlling of both himself and of others; he was not this … mewling child of a man. And then Thor took a moment to reconsider his thoughts. He was thinking about his brother in terms that were not fair to him when he knew that something had happened to Loki now. But his brother would not turn to look at him, would never turn to see him. This was something that went deeper than their words would be able to handle. He didn’t know how to handle this in proper fashion he told himself. He didn’t even know where to start with handling this. The thunder god didn’t know what would be right to say, right to do. So instead, he lifted himself upwards and chose to listen to his brother when Thor normally would’ve forced the issue until it was resolved. But that would not at work with Loki. Loki would only withdraw until it was a fight of some sort of attrition between the two of them. And another fight after that would not be well for his brother. Usually Thor thrived on conflict, especially when it came from his brother, but it would not be like that this time.

 

Thor chose instead to take a moment to look at his brother’s room. The bed was neatly made as it ever was, presuming that Loki made it. He’d always been quick to do so while they were children, tucking sheets into place and making sure that his room was clean. He’d clean Thor’s room too, given half a chance and Thor did his best on upkeep until it was messy again. Even as they’d grown up, Loki had always had the habit of picking up his dirtied clothes and his clean ones, putting the former out to be washed and the latter he would spend time folding while they’d talk. Thor couldn’t remember when that had stopped and he was left having to do it on his own. He’d never been able to do it as neatly as Loki. Book were set up on the stand by his brother’s bed, neatly collected together and with various marks in each of them, while more tomes were stacked haphazardly nearby on the floor. Poetry, political texts, books on magic - all of it read Loki. The table and chairs he had were set neatly up, and he saw the nuts that he’d brought his brother scattered across the floor. Thor knelt down and began to pick them up, studying them to ensure they were still edible. He took one for himself and chewed it slowly, thinking of his brother’s habit of sucking and cleaning off the sugar. Damn Loki and his damn mouth. Thor had overreacted and it’d shown. He had damaged what little of their relationship they had with one another and that grieved the large thunderer. But no, most of the room spoke of Loki and what he was like, leaving him to exhale briefly before he was stepping through the honeycombed wall.

 

He needed to speak with his mother about this. But that would come on the morrow when he’d had time to think about this, what he’d learned and when he wasn’t sodden with mead and wild emotion that had no outlet. His sleep that night would be troubled and Thor knew it all too well. But better to sleep than to remain up, letting this gnaw at him. At least, if he slept, that meant that nothing would happen that could not wait until day. But when sleep finally did come for Thor, it was hardly peaceful. He had visions of his brother, stretched out, broken, beaten, screaming. In the dungeons, Loki moaned in his sleep, his dreams invading Thor’s own. It was not a restful night at all and the dreams - nightmares - continued on and on until sunlight broke across Thor’s face, leaving him jerking awake with a cold sweat covering his body.

 

* * *

 

Seldom were the times when Thor went to his mother’s drawing room where she and the ladies of the court would be, talking of politics and court gossip, Frigga winnowing out which nobles were trying to seek favor, which others felt slighted by the court itself. Nothing happened in Asgard that Frigga did not know about and he knew she took relevant information from these meetings back to Odin. Through her knowledge and power, she ept Asgard at relative peace and harmony while teasing out alliances and contracts with the other worlds. Thor was certain that his mother had the most effective network of spies in Asgard and he trusted her to know what to do next. Young women and older noblewomen alike were scattered around the airily lit chamber, large panes of glass looking out over the gardens which could be opened at will. They were open now, letting in sweet fragrances of flowers abloom, of the grass, of the warm summer wind. But clouds were gathering in reflection of the thunder god’s mood, of the heavy grief he possessed in himself for what he had learned today, and rain scent was on the breeze now. How would he tell his mother that he suspected that Loki had been raped while he had been in absentia before turning up on Midgard? Would she be able to handle such news? And he knew that keeping Loki imprisoned was not helping his brother heal at all.

 

He had a wild idea forming in his head that was not going to be leaving anytime soon. That he had to get his brother out of this world, this realm, and take him somewhere else that he might start healing once again. That was all that he needed to do, right? He even knew where he would take Loki for who better to watch over him than the Avengers? They would not be pleased by Thor’s decision but it was his decision to make and Loki would have to deal with it, as would his friends. That potential for disaster was something he would not think about for now, and instead Thor chose to consider the benefits of Loki being taken someplace else where he would not be in solitude day and night alike. The princely lion of Asgard bowed to the room and mumbled hellos to those he recognized ( some being potential matches as Odin had put it ) from banquets, but he felt uncomfortable here. He would not move nor speak until his mother acknowledged him and she was busy with the large loom that sat before her chair, weaving something that he could not make out. Perhaps it was a tapestry, but it would be small if it was one. No, perhaps a blanket for herself. She wore shawls a lot more these days and knew that the women still spoke of her bravery in defending the woman from Midgard. How she had survived, if only just. And the fact she walked with a cane now was but proof of her bravery and skills as a shieldmaiden. Thor was proud to be her son.

 

Only when the shuttle clacked to a stop did Thor look up and Frigga smiled, one hand patting the stool nearby where Odin himself sometimes sat, speaking as she did so. “Take a small break, ladies. I know we’ve been at this for a few hours now. I would speak with my son, alone, if you would.”

 

Curtsies appeared as the cadre of womenfolk stood and bowed to the queen before they filed out of the room and Thor eased himself to sit down aware that his armored self was out of place in this soft looking den, even if he did not wear his cape nor carried his hammer. The uru-wrought battlehammer remained in his room, ready to fly to his call if needed, but he knew it was not needed today. Thunder rolled on the horizon as the clouds built and the shuttle began to clack again as Frigga let Thor find his words as he needed. Silence reigned until at last Thor’s mouth shifted and opened at last, and Frigga’s hands came to rest in her lap as she watched him with expectant hazel eyes. She saw his struggle and reached out with a hand, resting her fingers over his own. He felt the calluses she still had, calluses from defending Asgard with sword and shield, and turned his hand over to take hers gently. That seemed to be the prompt he needed to speak up for he did so at last, voice a quiet rumbling of noise that spilled out softly between his lips.

 

“... I… Mother, I just came to speak with you about Loki. About.. About things that I have learned about Loki. And how I don’t know how to help him.”

 

“As I have said to you before, Loki is an angry young man. I don’t know what manner of pains he suffered while he was lost from us. I do think, however that he needs you, more than he knows. You were always inseparable from one another as children and I think that you are the one that could save him, if you but tried.” Frigga’s smile was gentle as she regarded her son, reaching out to touch his cheek. Thor’s hand lifted to catch hers and he exhaled before at last choosing to speak up about this plan of his. It was not what he had come to say to her, but it would have to serve for now. He could not reveal what he suspected of Loki as of yet. He could not tell even his mother of this. The rains opened up outside and whatever Thor may have felt, he did not want to admit that his mother was right either. But she was right to say what she did now and he knew the truth she had spoken resonated dow to his heart. His larger fingers squeezed her smaller ones gently before he spoke at last, eyes downcast because he knew what he was about to say would be seen as treason by Odin.

 

“... mother, what I’m about to say might be seen as treason. But I.. wish to take Loki from here. He is not well and I have seen it myself. I want to take him from his confines. I would protect him, keep him safe - but he is doing himself no good with a place to only think about what he has done, no matter what Father says. He’s ill, and I would take it from him if I could.”

 

The proud head bowed as the rains outside grew heavier, beating on the panes of glass, though none of it entered the room as was his command. Instead, he silently listened to it, knowing his mother was deep in thought. Frigga would either bring this matter to Odin or she wouldn’t and he would suffer similar consequences no matter what. Exiled, again, and his brother being hunted down by the Einherjar. He would protect Loki, of course, for that was what mattered the most to Thor now; even from their parents, he would guard and keep his brother safe. He knew that he would not see Asgard again if he went through with this plan but it didn’t matter. Once he had sworn to always protect Loki and that had not changed now that he remembered. It was the forgetting that he had once sworn to do so which galled the prince now. But his confession to his mother still had gone unanswered and he finally brought his head up to look into Frigga’s eyes. Those hazel depths were on him firm and considering and Thor swallowed hard, knowing that look all too well. He had Loki had often gotten that look when they were in trouble for doing something or another which had left Frigga making them clean up whatever mess they had made with one another. He felt that same look now, but Thor didn’t allow his eyes to waver. When Frigga at last chose to speak Thor would hear every word of it before he was done.

 

“You know that your father will see it as an act of treason from you, should you truly wish to do this,” murmured the Allmother, regarding her son with proud eyes. “You will be defying his will all to save your brother, nothing more than that. But…” she said ass he saw Thor’ face sinking with her words, ”I have to agree with you. Loki is not doing well within the dungeons and I have also held such fears over what might have been done to him. When he was first returned to us, I noticed his prideful demeanor did not last long when he was left to himself and at first, I thought it was nothing more than a lack of an audience; I have come to think otherwise based on times when I have observed him without being seen and I dare say that to ignore it would be to do a grave disservice to him. You have my blessings,” Frigga held up her hand to keep Thor from speaking as she could see him ready to do, “if you can find some way to extract your brother from the palace. What you did before will not work again and you cannot be bold enough to take him via the Bifrost. Odin would summon you back within seconds and there would be Hel to pay. If you can find out a way to get Loki out without a fight amongst the Einherjar or against your father, then I would pray see that you manage to take him with you and learn what has ruined him so.”

 

A challenge that his mother set before him was a task most agreeable to Thor. “I listen and obey, Allmother.” The rain softened and lightened up, but it would continue to pour for the rest of the day, a gentle pattering that would feed the thirst of fields and flora and fauna alike. It was with his mother’s words in mind that Thor rose to stand and then he bowed deeply to her, trying not to smile. His mother’s handmaidens were filing back into the chamber at some unseen signal that it was alright for them to come back in and Thor bowed his head to them as well before carefully picking his way through the detritus that littered the chamber in sewing and knitting and other such forms of womanly work. That being done he left and headed out into the halls, turning to head for the training yards to do something that would allow him to think. He had refused to think last night and it had cost him.

 

Mostly, Thor had refused to think about his actions and what they could have meant to see his brother broken on the floor. Had he wanted that on some level? Loki’s words about Jane had been infuriating but he had insulted others Thor cared about more than once and he had never sought to choke his brother then. But those times were long past, a sign of the way they had grown apart. But heartstrings were difficult to sever and he had never quite lost hope in Loki, no matter what he’d said to him. He wondered, suddenly, how much pain his brother had felt over his actions and words. Thor absently touched his left side feeling the small scar from the dagger his brother had used to stab him with, remembering the pain. He remembered moreso his brother’s whisper of “sentiment” in a voice so profoundly aching that he had wanted to embrace him. But there’d been a war going on, hadn’t there? But now that his mind was on the subject, he was going back over words he’d spoken callously, to actions he had thought of without care, to how he had treated Loki more and more like a burden over time. How much of this was his fault? He couldn’t have said but the weight of his thoughts slowed his steps, a pensive expression painting itself across his brow as Thor considered how it might’ve been seen with the actions he’d taken. With the words he’d thrown out without care. And how he had come to ignore Loki as the years went on. He recalled the days of their youth when they had been together through everything, laughing at jokes and playing until Frigga had to chase them to bed. He remembered the first time he’d kissed Loki, not in the chaste way of brothers, but with eager intent. The surprise, the taste… all of it was crushing his heart, he felt and Thor stopped to prop himself with a hand on a pillar, eyes closing as his left hand clutched at his chest while tears began to leak out from underneath his eyelids.

 

“My lord? Are you alright?”

 

Bleary eyes opened to regard the Einherjar standing there, giving him a concerned look. Thor sniffed and dragged the back of his hand over his eyes before giving the man his sunniest smile. “Aye. Just a few memories that caught up with me, ‘twas all. I am on my way to the training grounds. No need to worry about me, lad.”

 

Some of the Einherjar were older than Thor and Loki, but this one looked young as if he were fresh from the tests that made up the kingsguard. Likely he was from the last rotation of inducted cadets. The guard slowly nodded his head before turning and moving on, his stride purposeful. But Thor reconsidered going to the grounds. With what route his thoughts were taking perhaps it was better not to be in public at all for the time being. But his mind began to once more resume work on his mother’s words instead and for that he was grateful to his own brain. It did nothing for his pained mood but he would work through it somehow. But torn between physical effort and a need for solitude, he thought for a moment before he was walking to a balcony, calling Mjolnir to him and leaping over the edge as the weapon came swooping along the outside of the walls. Into the rain he fell for a moment, but he was traveling away from the city to one of the more secluded training areas that was kept for when the new inductees from the Einherjar were to be trained in stealth and infiltration. They should be empty, so Thor told himself and he landed at one heavily. Mjolnir sang softly to him, her voice sad. She could tell he was in pain and tried to soothe him for it. He ran a hand over her appreciatively before he was moving to training dummies and letting her hang from his waist. He began to strike out at them with his hands, losing himself in the exertion that it brought.

 

* * *

 

“We have found him, my lord.”

 

“Oh? Good.” White teeth flashed in a menacing smile. “It is time for him to return to us, as it is. He ran away and we just can’t have that now can we?”

 

* * *

 

In the dungeons, Loki was stretched out prone on his bed, arms at rest upon his stomach. He himself was busy thinking of how last night had gone with Thor and knew he could not show weakness like that ever again, not to anyone. It wouldn’t do to look that way in front of anyone else, be it his mother or his brother. The thought of Thor had him turning onto his side and curling up to try and not think about his brother. But trying not to do something didn’t always work and Loki’s eyes closed for a moment as he indeed thought about his brother- or the man he had been raised with whom had indeed been his brother once upon a time. He denied the idea still that he had been weak last night, refusing to give into the idea that he had ever shown weakness, especially not to his brother. No, not his brother - Thor. It was hard to think of him as anything else but his brother in truth for Thor had been there for so much of his life. How many times had he longed to be his brother’s equal How many times had he longed for his brother to just see him? Thor had stopped seeing him long ago when he had gained Mjolnir and had become true heir to the throne. His attempts for it meant little in truth for Loki had not wanted the throne so much as he had desired for Thor to watch him rule. To be his brother’s conqueror. He could admit, he had almost used the scepter on his brother - even if it’d been destroyed later, he would’ve had Thor under his command and no one would have known but for the bright blue of his eyes. He could imagine them even now, beautiful and gemlike, his brother bowing down to press kisses upon his feet - ah, Loki would have adored such a thing until the novelty would have worn off. Hard to say when it would have but it definitely would have, he was sure.

 

But how his brother had acted last night had only driven Loki to a terrible state of mind and he swallowed in memory of it. Loki had never been used before he had met the one that had given him the scepter. It had been a thing of amazing power he’d been granted - but the price he’d had to pay for it had been terrible indeed. He shuddered at the memory even now, his hands squeezing at his own arms for a moment. That… being had not been gentle. Loki had ached and bled for days afterwards, but he had no reason to complain, not with the scepter in his hands. Not with the power he’d been gifted with. It was something he could only still appreciate - and hate - in hindsight. Loki knew that there would have to be a price when he had fallen into his territory, but the memories were making his gorge rise, thinking of his brother acting how that tyrant had. Oh, once he would’ve pressed back into Thor, once he would’ve let himself be swept up in the sensations. But Thor deserved better than to touch someone as ugly as Loki knew he was. As ugly as he was capable of being. He could dream about it, however, the brawny arms around him, Thor’s beard scratching at his skin - Loki could dream and no one could stop him from dreaming. So he would dream of Thor now and then later, when his heart wasn’t so full and didn’t ache so much. And ache it did, thinking of the blond thunder god, making Loki feel cold in many different ways. He had chosen to quietly seek out power in his own way, but his way had gotten him nowhere that he wished to be. His breath shuddered out of him and he rolled onto his back once more to stare numbly at the ceiling. With nothing else to do, his mind turned towards contemplation.

 

Thor would never understand it, his heart. The great oaf had given up on him long ago, Loki recalled. There was no fixing their bond, no way to renew what they had once been to each other. Thor had begun to leave him behind more and more as he’d grown older and he had never looked back to his brother, had never made any attempt to look for him at the banquet halls and other social functions where Loki had been pressed to join in. No, he had watched Thor busy himself with the art of war, learning how to wield the hammer and take his place on the battlefield. When they had both joined such places, their enemies were devastated with ease for they had flowed in synchrony where others were pressed to try and make attempts to take down their opponents. Those were the nights when Thor would remember Loki and there would be mead-drunk kisses stolen in the halls, sometimes even more than kisses. But it was not always Loki who Thor would seek out for companionship on those nights now was it? True, Thor would bring him along on adventures but it would no longer be just them. The Warriors Three and the Lady Sif would often join them and Loki would suffer hearing Sif’s giggles and moans as Thor would rut at her like a wild beast during the times they camped. When they had fallen out with one another, Loki had nearly rejoiced over the matter. But then they had kissed and made up once more, and it was infuriating. Sif had never liked Loki and he had not been fond of her either, but they made peace only enough to not fight in front of his brother. He licked chapped lips and closed his eyes, exhaling for a long moment.

 

If there was but one wish that he had the ability to make, it was to have Thor look at him again, just once. To have Thor turn around and realize that his once long-time shadow was no longer there. That was all he wanted out of things anymore. To know that Thor missed him as well as he missed his brother’s presence. Ridiculous, childish notions and dreams, but perhaps he was a lonely child after all underneath everything. The dark-haired son of Asgard scoffed at himself and gave his head a shake, swallowing once more until he pressed his hands over his face, sighing through them before running long fingers through his wild and uncombed hair. Loki had not cleaned himself up since last night and saw no reason to do so that day; not even a possible visit with Frigga had been enough to inspire the Jotun prince into making sure that he was presentable for any visitors that might have dropped by. As far as the self of his own body went, he thought that he deserved to look this disheveled and dirty. With nothing to do, no one to speak with, he was sure this imprisonment would drive him mad. But perhaps he was already there, knowing how he yearned for his brother even now. Loki was determined not to let himself slip back into wanting. Last night had proven that Thor did not seem to care about the feelings of Loki any longer. It had been illuminating in all the worst of ways. No, Thor would not consider him a brother any longer after last night and the idea had laughter, harsh and cruel, bubbling out of his throat. It built and it built until he was nearly screaming into his pillow. And all the while, the prince of stories and lies remained ignorant to the plans now forming in his brother’s mind and was left feeling wildly undone.

 

It was but another typical day it seemed.

  
How he hated these cycles of what might come followed with disappointment. But he had once said to Thor that satisfaction was not in his nature. Not for him.


End file.
